Those Times When You Just Thought 'Huh'
by VivyPotter
Summary: These magical folk do seem to have a problem with sensible thinking, and 'wizard logic' just isn't an excuse! Not anymore, anyway. Join me, on my cynical and nit-picking quest to make a general nuisance of myself, in... Those Times When You Just Thought 'Huh' (Or: The Harry Potter Cast Have OOC Moments Of Logic) - A kind of sequel to TMHPOLH
1. Train Station Trouble

**Hello, and welcome to: Those Times When You Just Thought 'Huh'**

**This is where I discuss the various and controversial plotholes that were bound to have appeared in such a complicated story such as Harry Potter, but in character format.**

**It's kind of like a more detailed Plothole!Harry, for those of you who have travelled from The Many Harry Potters of Little Hangleton. Hi to you guys! This probably won't be as long, and is bound to be more controversial, seeing as I'm commenting on the original series and not fanfiction clichés, but it'll be in mostly the same style.**

**My beloved beta RUGoing2writethat shall be joining me again in my quest!**

**THIS IS INSPIRED BY 'Run that by me again?' by the wonderful Sarah1281. I will not copy from her works, but some of the points and arguments may be similar, as I think her work is just brilliant, and some of her chapters inspired a point I want to make.**

**PLEASE BE AWARE that these are my OWN opinions and thoughts. I am not trying to hate on HP, I love it! I just get my joy out of picking holes in beautiful things. ;D**

**IF YOU WISH TO DEBATE any of the content or points, please do so in a constructive and respectful way. I would really love to have a conversation, and maybe I can learn something! We can be friends, really.**

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own or have the rights to Harry Potter, and all rights go to JK. The italic sections are direct quotes from the books, and all the work of the wonderful JK.**

* * *

_Set_: Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone, chapter 6 (The Journey From Platform Nine and Three-Quarters)

* * *

_'Excuse me,' Harry said to the plump woman. _

_'Hullo, dear,' she said. 'First time at Hogwarts? Ron's new, too.'_

_She pointed at the last and youngest of her sons. He was tall, thin and gangling, with freckles, big hands and feet, ad a long nose._

_'Yes,' said Harry. 'The thing is- the thing is, I don't know how to-'_

_'How to get on to the platform?' she said kindly, and Harry nodded._

_'Not to worry,' she said. 'All you have to do is walk straight at the barrier between platforms nine and ten. Don't stop and don't be scared you'll crash into it, that's very important. Best do it at a bit of a run if you're nervous. Go on now before Ron.'_

* * *

Harry mentally cursed Hagrid. Surely there was some sort of _guide_ for the other children from non-magical families? Not everyone could be suspiciously lucky enough to run into a loudly-shouting and obviously-magical family? Hagrid had remembered to give him his tickets, surely it wasn't too much of a stretch to give him directions on how to _use_ them. 'It's all on yer ticket'- what rubbish.

Harry regarded the rather convincingly _solid_ brick wall in front of him. "Er, wouldn't it be easier to, y'know, lean against the wall, or something? It might help to reduce the freezing fear of being squished like a bug."

"Don't be silly," the woman dismissed, smiling patronisingly, "It's much less scary to run full pelt at that very solid-looking wall!"

Harry blinked and frowned. "No, you see I'm not buying that. Not at all. Although it _is_ a lot less silly than the idea that muggles don't notice groups of kids with huge trunks and an owl disappearing, whilst running, into a wall, in the middle of the 9th biggest train station in Great Britain. I can't believe the conductor hasn't gotten suspicious yet! I must be the 100th kid to ask him about this non-existent station!"

The woman shrugged. "But how else are muggle-borns supposed to reach it? We have to put it in some kind of easily recognisable location, for heaven's sake. It's not like we could give them the postcode or street name where there's a subtle entrance, where we could clearly organise the muggleborns and inform them of the foreign world they're entering, instead of stranding them helplessly in a crowded station. And the idea of giving them a timed portkey or something since, you know, _magic_? Ha! What rot! It's much better to have it in the middle of good old King's Cross."

"But that's just ridiculous! How are magical-born families supposed to reach it? Somehow I just can't imagine Draco Malfoy travelling on the Underground."

"Oh no, dear, purebloods _presumably_ travel through fireplace to get to the train. Because you can't just have a floo straight to Hogwarts, oh _no_. You must get a train. A _muggle_ train. For some reason..."

"Fireplace?" Harry raised his eyebrows doubtfully. "You're not worried about burning to death?"

"It's _magical_ fire," she explained slowly, leaning over and staring into his face.

"How do you know this?" Harry narrowed his eyes.

"_We're_ purebloods," she said happily, wrapping an arm around Ron (who groaned and batted his mum's arm away, grumbling "Gerroff,")

"So why are you using the muggleborn entrance?" Harry asked curiously.

She looked at him very seriously. "Depending upon fan theories; it's either Dumbledore's evil plan, or a plot device in order for you to meet Ron's family and ascertain that we are _very_ nice people." She gestured to Ron cheerfully. "Say hello to your new best friend!"

Ron removed the finger from his nose and mumbled, "Hi."

Harry stared at the boy in disbelief. "Oh god."


	2. Electrical Issues

**These aren't going to be in chronological order, I thought I should warn you.**

* * *

**Sorry I haven't posted in a bit. Writer's block and bronchitis combined? Doesn't make for a productive VivyPotter. Plus ****I just got really into Kuroshitsuji. Anyone else watch it?**

**I'm currently sort-of-writing a fanfiction of Luna's legendary Quidditch commentary. Would anyone be interesting in reading that?**

* * *

_Set_: Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, chapter 28 (The Madness of Mr Crouch)

_"__All those substitutes for magic Muggles use – electricity, and computers and radar, and all those things – they all go haywire around Hogwarts, there's too much magic in the a__ir."_

* * *

"Bullshit." Harry said, ears still wiggling.

"WHAT?" Hermione and Ron looked at him in shock.

"Sorry," he apologised. "That was out of character. I meant to say: bloody rubbish."

His friends sighed in relief.

"How is it rubbish?" Hermione demanded. "I got that information from a _book_!"

"First off: Muggle substitute for magic? _Really_ Hermione? You think muggles created TV just to _substitute_ for magic? Because your parents _clearly_ have to make up for the fact that they don't possess the superior magical powers that you do."

"Harry, I obviously didn't mean that," Hermione dismissed.

"Are you sure? Because you sounded like Malfoy for a second there."

"I did _not_!"

"You did too. Even Ron knows it."

They both looked at the flustered Weasley, who was looking between them in bewilderment. "Harry, mate, I don't really think-"

"_Ron_," Harry said warningly.

"Fine! Hermione, you did sound a bit like that snaky git for a moment-"

"_Excuse_ me-!" Hermione protested.

"_But_," Ron hurried to add, "I'm sure it was just a… momentary thing, you know? All that time with the ferret was bound to rub off."

"I have not been spending _time_ with Malfoy!" Hermione screeched furiously.

"Well, you have," Ron said, a little resentfully. "All those hours in the _library_, of all places-"

"I was studying!" Hermione protested.

"And secondly," Harry interrupted the two before they could kick off. "I'm really confused about this whole 'electricity and magic don't mix' thing."

"It's really rather simple, Harry-" Hermione began to explain.

"Oh I'm sure you can reel off some kind of magical theory about wards and electrical currents, but it doesn't work in practise."

Hermione paused and eyed him suspiciously. "Go on."

"Well, think of Diagon Alley. It's right in the middle of London, and have you ever heard of an area in London where electricity just 'doesn't work'? And even if Diagon Alley has some kind of convenient 'wards' or it's just in another place entirely and you're somehow 'transported' there after stepping through the brick wall, there's still the matter of the Leaky Cauldron. It's right on the street!"

"I dunno, mate," Ron shrugged. "Maybe it's not magical enough."

"Not magical enough?!" Harry scoffed. "It has a very heavy Notice-Me-Not spell placed right over it!"

"Well maybe that's… shielded, in a way?" Hermione tried.

"Ridiculous," Harry said. "It was just a stupid excuse for why muggles haven't tracked the huge unknown blind-spot in the middle of the Scottish highlands that is Hogwarts, and bombed the hell out of it."

"They can do that?" Ron looked horrified.

Harry sighed. "Yes Ron. Yes they can. I'd like to see what that was a 'substitution' for." He looked at Hermione pointedly.

"Alright!" Hermione exploded. "So I was politically incorrect, sue me! What matters is that electricity doesn't work around magic, so _there_!"

"Fine," Harry allowed. "But it doesn't make sense."

"Agreed," Hermione nodded resolutely. "And believe me, I _will_ be investigating it."

"Good."

There was a silence.

"So why _have_ you been spending so much time with Malfoy?" Ron asked.

"RONALD! There's no way I'd _ever_ date Malfoy! He's racist, stupid, irritating, annoying, foul, hideous and I quite literally _punched him in the face _last year!" Hermione yelled, frustrated.

"Oh," Ron mumbled.

"So why did I see you guys snogging down at the lake?" Harry asked.

"HA! I KNEW IT!" Ron brandished his finger triumphantly at Hermione. "Wait, you did _what_? But HA! I KNEW THERE WAS SOMETHING! But _Malfoy_-?" He was clearly undecided if he was disappointed, appalled, or satisfied.

"HARRY!" Hermione screeched, a furious blush creeping up her neck.

"What?" Harry shrugged innocently, a smug grin appearing. "I did."

Hermione 'hmphed' and spun around angrily, stalking off in the general direction of the library muttering under her breath. Harry caught snatches of "…show him… catch her… hate him… did _not_… see if I-" before she got out of earshot.

Harry turned around and gave his still-confused friend a pitiful look. "See you in the common room."

And then he walked away. "'Muggle substitute'- ha!"


	3. Point Loss Problems

**...So, I feel really bad. Sorry for the long wait, if there's anyone still out there. Eh. I guess my life has been kind of hectic lately? Relationship issues, exams, other stuff... it's just been really overwhelming. I just didn't feel like what I wrote would be good enough, in the mood that I was in. I still haven't quite left that mood... but I thought I owed it to you guys to get something on here. This story isn't abandoned, the author is just kind of useless.**

**This is unbetaed at the moment, so pointing out any mistakes would be great.**

* * *

Set: Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone, chapter 15 (The Forbidden Forest)

* * *

_"__"I'm disgusted," said Professor McGonagall. "Four students out of bed in one night! I've never heard of such a thing before! You, Miss Granger, I thought you had more sense. As for you, Mr. Potter, I thought Gryffindor meant more to you than this. All three of you will receive detentions -yes, you too, Mr. Longbottom, nothing gives you the right to walk around school at night, especially these days, it's very dangerous - and fifty points will be taken from Gryffindor.""_

* * *

And then Harry did something unexpected. Something no first year would ever do, faced with the wrath of Professor Minerva McGonagall. He stood up, a determined look on his face, and _argued_.

"Professor, I think this is completely unreasonable."

"Harry!" Hermione gasped, grabbing her friend's sleeve and trying to pull him back into his seat.

"No Hermione!" he objected, and shook his arm out of her grasp.

McGonagall fixed him with a hard glare and pursed her lips. "Mr Potter, I hope you have a good reason for this outburst, else I'll have no other choice but to take a further 10 points away-"

"That's precisely my point!" Harry burst out, his fists clenched. "The number of points taken away! 50! That's more than Snape ever takes away in my first year, and he hates my guts! This is our first offence, and you've just deducted 150 points."

"Mr Potter, you were wandering the corridors at night," McGonagall sad sternly, colour rising in her cheeks. "I can't think of another instance when there's been such a blatant rule break-"

"Rubbish." Harry spat.

"Mr Potter!" the professor gasped, shocked at his audacity. "If I were you, I would think very hard about what you're next going to say-"

"Of course you've seen such 'blatant rule breaking' before." Harry scoffed. "We live in the same castle as the Weasley twins. We didn't hurt, humiliate or disturb anyone else, so I'm not sure why sneaking out puts us on the same level as them- puts us higher than them! And the Marauders used to sneak out loads, to do far worse things than us. So you've most certainly 'heard' of it before."

Professor McGonagall got to her feet. "I'm going to ignore the fact that you can't possibly know of the Marauders at this point in the plot, and chalk it up to the heat of the moment. But these are dangerous times, Potter, as I told Longbottom-"

"Why exactly are they dangerous times?" Harry challenged. "A basilisk isn't on the loose, Sirius Black hasn't broken in, Voldemort hasn't resurrected-"

"Bloody hell, mate." Ron broke in, a sympathetic look on his face. "Leave the poor fourth wall alone."

"Shut up Ron. You're not even in this scene." Hermione told him firmly. "Harry, I'm sure there's a perfectly good, plot-related reason for the point loss and detention-"

Harry rolled his eyes. "Yeah, I know. To make the Gryffindor win more dramatic, and to meet Voldemort but- have you considered how dangerous this detention is? She's sending us into the forbidden forest to look for a unicorn killer! Four first years! You might as well let Filch have his fun, because this is practically a death sentence."

Neville gulped.

"Oh shush Harry. You're scaring Neville." Hermione scolded him.

"Oh go snog Malfoy," he shot back.

Hermione turned pink.

"Mr Potter!" McGonagall interrupted. "Enough! The pure disrespect-! You _will_ serve this outrageously dangerous detention; take the fall for a ridiculous point loss, becoming the enemy of your own House; and you will _like_ it. Or so help me I'll-"

"What?" Harry rolled his eyes. "You'll throw me off of the astronomy tower? It'd be a quicker death than what you've already got planned-"

"Out!" the teacher bellowed, glasses shaking.

They all shuffled towards the door, but not before Neville turned and asked meekly, "Erm, why am I being punished to the same degree as them again? I understand a bit of punishment, but you know I had the best intentions at heart-"

"Out!"

He left.


	4. Parsletongue Particulars

**Hey guys! Look, another update! And sooner! I'm impressed with myself XD**

* * *

Set: Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, chapter 31 (The Battle of Hogwarts)

* * *

_"__"But how did you get in there?" he asked, staring from the fangs to Ron. "You need to speak Parseltongue!"_

_"He did!" whispered Hermione. "Show him, Ron!"_

_Ron made a horrible strangled hissing noise._

_"It's what you did to open the locket," he told Harry apologetically. "I had to have a few goes to get it right, but," he shrugged modestly, "we got there in the end."_

_"He was amazing!" said Hermione. "Amazing!_"

* * *

Harry was more than a bit confused. "Hang on. You can speak parsletongue?"

"Just a bit," Ron grinned, cheeks red with excitement.

"B-but, I thought it was rare? Y'know, that's why everyone made such a fuss? In second year." Harry reminded them, the torture he'd gone through in that year flashing through his mind.

"Yeah, but I don't speak it properly. Just bits and pieces. You speak in your sleep, and you did open that locket…" Ron shrugged.

"How on earth did you remember that?" Harry frowned. "Hissing all sounds the same. How the hell would you know the difference between each sound- enough to learn a whole new language? I just don't believe it. And the pronunciation that you'd need to learn to open a door based on it… And- wait a minute. I thought parseltongue can't be learned? That it's a magical gift?"

Ron frowned defensively. "It's not hard, mate. It's just hissing."

"Just hissing that caused me to be ostracised in second year!?" Harry exploded.

"Calm down, Harry!" Hermione soothed. "A language can be learned."

The Boy Who Lived tugged at his hair in frustration. "If that's true, then why is it associated with dark wizards? Why hasn't bloody Dumbledore learnt it? He can speak all those languages!"

Hermione took a step forwards, placing a comfortable hand on one shoulder. "Harry it's practically died out. How are we supposed to learn-"

"If it was that bloody easy to learn it wouldn't have died out! We'd all be taking lessons from snakes, or something!" Harry yelled.

"Mate, it isn't that big of a deal. Why are you bothered?" Ron asked carelessly.

"Because I just think it's kind of stupid that such a big plot point in the second book- sorry, my second year- and a huge contributor in the parallels between me and Voldemort, was ruined for the sake of some basilisk fangs! It makes all the suspicion in my second year completely null and void!"

Hermione shook her head. "That's different. Harry, it's a magical gift-"

"THEN WHY CAN SOME FRECKLY GINGER IDIOT LEARN IT FROM A BIT OF SLEEP-TALKING!?" Harry yelled furiously.

There were a few muffled shouts from down the corridor, and the sounds of spells ricocheting off of the stone walls.

"Death eaters," Hermione said quickly. "We have to move."

"Fine," Harry glowered. "But when this is done, maybe you should take some lessons from Ron so you can talk to your boyfriend better."

Hermione looked baffled. "I don't-"

"Well, Malfoy's a snake, isn't he?" Harry said snidely.

Hermione shrieks of protest and Ron's sniggers were lost amongst the spellfire.


	5. Camping Conundrums

**Oh look. Yet another late and pathetic entry from Vivy. What a surprise. Sorry guys, I have kinda disappointed myself. My fanfic presence as late has been about nil :( I've had a sh*t ton of stuff to do and I've just felt so stressed whenever I've tried to write. I sit down, and I get so upset and down- and so I've been takig a break, and trying to write a short story. But I'm going to France for a week, and then Thailand for a month, so it's not gonna get better, unfortunately (not that you guys will really notice with my postig schedule. I'm trying to get a lot of writing and updating done now, as well as starting a new, short fanfic ('cause that's a great idea.) So please forgive me for the short, late chapter?**

* * *

Set:_ Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, chapter 15 (The Goblin's Revenge)_

* * *

_"My mother," said Ron on night, as they sat in the tent on a riverbank in Wales, "can make good food appear out of thin air." _

_He prodded moodily at the lumps of charred gray fish on his plate. Harry glanced automatically at Ron's neck and saw, as he has expected, the golden chain of the Horcrux glinting there. He managed to fight down the impulse to swear at Ron, whose attitude would, he knew, improve slightly when the time came to take off the locket. _

_ "Your mother can't produce food out of thin air," said Hermione. "no one can. Food is the first of the five Principal Exceptions to Gamp's Law of Elemental Transfigura—" _

_"Oh, speak English, can't you?" Ron said, prising a fish out from between his teeth. _

_"It's impossible to make good food out of nothing! You can Summon it if you know where it is, you can transform it, you can increase the quantity if you've already got some—" _

_"Well, don't bother increasing this, it's disgusting," said Ron._

* * *

Harry frowned as he watched his friends bicker. It was getting repetitive- he was surprised Hermione hadn't slapped Ron by now. He'd seen her hand twitch a few times. And when she inevitably _did_, that was bound to trigger a whole new round of petty arguments. Then it dawned on him.

"Hey," he said loudly.

Ron and Hermione continued 'talking'.

"Hey!" he said a little louder.

No visible change.

"Hey!" he yelled, and his friends at last fell silent.

"Finally," Harry muttered darkly. "Okay, Hermione, I feel like you've missed a trick here."

Hermione gasped. "_Missed a trick?_ Harry Potter, I do not 'miss tricks'-"

"Stop with the whole outrage thing, 'Mione. I'm not accusing you of anything." Harry rolled his eyes. "I'm just pointing out that there's a way to stop all this arguing and shrieking between you and Ron. You're giving me a headache."

Ron pouted. "Just because you're the bloody Chosen One-"

"Shut _up_ Ronald!" Hermione hissed furiously. "Harry, speak."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Well, first, you guys could kiss and dissolve all of the sexual tension that the author is clearly trying to build-"

"Hey!" Hermione protested, blushing hotly.

"Or we could go into the nearest muggle town, buy easily preserved foods, and keep 'increasing the quantity' of/replicating them. That should last us a good few weeks, and then we can get something else. It may get samey, but at least it won't be salmon, or whatever Merlin-cursed fish I've managed to drag out of the waters, since that seems to offend your senses so much, Ron. Although I _would_ advise you to hold your tongue, since your whininess is quickly making you one of the most irritating characters in the series, despite the fact that you have been a great friend to me in previous books, and _much_ more value than a comic relief."

Harry broke off from his speech, panting as he climbed down from his soapbox. He glanced over at his friends, wiping the indignant sweat from his brow.

Hermione and Ron stood, mouths open and gaping.

"Wow," Hermione muttered. "That actually makes a lot of sense."

"Thank you," Harry said, a pleased grin on his face.

"Great idea, mate," Ron said dreamily, still thinking of kissing Hermione.

"I do have them, occasionally."

The Golden Trio nodded thoughtfully, and then set off to find something easily preserved- presumably tinned- because, really, is a Wizarding war the place to lose all sense of logic? I know camping is brain-numbing, but _really_.


	6. Troll Tricks

**This always annoyed me. And unfortunately, I am now heading off to Thailand for a month. But once I get back, hopefully updates will become more frequent? We can always dream. Love you all, your support, and your fabulous plot holes. Keep 'em coming! :)**

* * *

Set: _Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone, chapter 10 (Halloween)_

* * *

_"Troll - in the dungeons - thought you ought to know."_

_He then sank to the floor in a dead faint._

_There was an uproar. It took several purple firecrackers exploding from the end of Professor Dumbledore's wand to bring silence._

_"Prefects," he rumbled, "lead your Houses back to the dormitories immediately!"_

* * *

There was immediate uproar. Harry was pushed to his feet as his fellow Gryffindors surged. He could hear Percy, Ron's brother, bellowing in a pompous voice. Not many people were paying attention to him, and Harry privately wondered if perhaps the Gryffindor prefect should have been more of a _leader_?

"Blimey!" Ron exclaimed, looking positively gleeful. "A troll!"

"Yeah, I know," Harry muttered distractedly, scanning the students around him. He was sure he'd forgotten something. Harry narrowed his eyes and surveyed the Great Hall. He could feel a niggling doubt at the back of his mind- something someone had said…

And then he noticed that the Slytherin table wasn't moving. The rest of the school was filtering out slowly, (it was better than what he'd expected. Surely 4 or so students couldn't lead their whole House? Utter chaos,) but the green and silver figures were staying firmly in place.

"Hey," Harry said, nudging Ron. "Look."

His ginger friend followed Harry's line of sight and glowered. "What in Merlin's name do you suppose is up with them? Bloody snakes."

Dumbledore had clearly noticed the movement- or lack of it- too, and he raised a hand to quieten the Hall. Inexplicably, the sound dimmed, then died away. The remaining students were silent.

"Bloody brilliant," Ron whispered, thoroughly impressed.

Dumbledore cleared his throat, but he didn't have time to speak before a girl in green robes got to her feet. Harry remembered her as one of the Slytherin prefects, and vaguely thought her name might have been Gemma.

"Sir," she said, and her voice was uncertain but loud, "the Slytherin dormitories are in the dungeons."

The headmaster looked surprised. "Well so they are! Thank you, Miss Farley. I have no idea what I was thinking."

She raised her hand timidly, and spoke once more. "And wouldn't it, um, have been more sensible to keep everyone in here, where there are teachers to protect us and only one entrance, and send someone out to deal with the troll? Instead of have targets walk in chaos back to the dormitories, where the troll may already be, with only prefects to protect them?"

"By golly you're right!" Dumbledore declared merrily. "A splendid idea. One that, as headmaster, I really should have come up with."

"If you don't mind me saying, sir, this whole thing feels a bit unnecessary. Almost like it's all an unneeded plot device to get the students out and around the castle whilst a troll is on the loose."

"You may well be right," Dumbledore agreed happily. "Teachers- as people far more qualified than any of our students, why don't you take the prefects with you and round up those students that escaped our grasp. Bring them back here, and we'll see what is to be done about our visitor."

McGonagall looked positively traumatised, pursing her lips and tutting. The expression reminded Harry very suddenly of Hermione Granger, and suddenly he had his answer.

He stuck his hand up.

"Yes, Potter?" McGonagall asked, gritting her teeth.

Harry was very aware that almost every pair of eyes in the room were upon him. Well, except for Dumbledore's, who was humming and stargazing whilst sucking on a sweet.

"It's Hermione, Professor. She's in the toilets, crying." Harry said.

"Something that has something to do with you two, no doubt." The teacher stared sternly down at Harry and Ron, who fidgeted sheepishly. "Very well, Mr Potter, I will retrieve our Miss Granger as soon as possible."

The whole thing was solved very quickly after that. Relieved looking students were herded back into the Great Hall, along with a red-eyed Hermione. McGonagall dropped her off near Harry and Ron, who promptly apologised. There's nothing quite like the possible threat of a troll to cultivate a strong friendship. Thank goodness nothing actually dangerous had to happen to cause it.

About an hour later, Snape glided into the Great Hall, looking as imperious as ever. "The issue is dealt with, Headmaster," he sneered. "It was so simple, two first years with a month of magical training could have done it."

"But thank heavens they didn't have too," Dumbledore said mysteriously.

"Yes. That really would have been testament to the insane, illogical and dangerous way that Hogwarts deals with all things magical." Snape bit out.

Dumbledore took on a distinctly innocent look. "I have absolutely no idea what you mean."

McGonagall coughed, and Harry heard something that sounded awfully like 'three-headed dog'. He looked at Ron and Hermione, and shrugged.

Weird. You'd almost think their lives were endangered daily.


	7. Malfoy Malcontent

**Yo Dawgs. I have returned from Thailand, with no tan and skin the same pasty shade as always. I am back with my fanfiction bros, and am going to attempt to update every Tuesday or Wednesday at least, so watch out for that :) I have missed you all so much!**

** I am currently doing a play called 'In Which We Maraud', a Marauders era based musical, written by me and my friend. ****So if you want to see an extract of that (there are many puns) maybe I could add it on the next chapter? Of course, if that's something you feel doesn't belong in this fanfiction, I won't :)**

* * *

Set: _Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince, chapter 7 (The Slug Club)_

* * *

_"He showed Borgin something we couldn't see," Harry pressed on stubbornly. "Something that seriously scared Borgin. It was the Mark, I know it- he was showing Borgin who he was dealing with, you saw how seriously Borgin took him!"_

_Ron and Hermione exchanged another look._

_"I'm not sure, Harry…"_

_"Yeah, I still don't reckon You-Know-Who would let Malfoy join…"_

* * *

Harry looked frustrated. "Why are you arguing about Draco being evil? What reason could you possibly have, that fits with the past 5 books, to dispute it?"

Ron exchanged one of those irritating 'honestly, what is he like' looks with Hermione. "Harry, mate, Malfoy's not evil."

"He _literally said_ that he hoped that Hermione _died_ in second year. That isn't 'just 12 year old' stuff. He has mocked, bullied and harassed us, and possibly would have stood by whilst I was crucioed last year! What of that does _not_ scream 'weak-willed and easy susceptible to bad-doing? He might not _be_ evil, but he's damn well capable of it, I bet."

Ron scowled. "He's an idiot, yeah, but he's just a teenage prat. He wouldn't work for You-Know-Who."

"Why on earth not?!" Harry protested. "His entire family does- you know as well as I do that Lucius Malfoy was not 'imperiused', and he's _supposed_ to be in Azkaban. Have you forgotten about the Ministry Battle? Voldemort's probably looking for someone to take Lucius' place. If the Dark Lord is making calls, how easy do you think it would be for Mini Malfoy to go 'oh no Voldie, I think I'll pass on this evil scheme. Why don't you get someone more suitably aged'?"

Hermione coloured. "Well, when you put it like that- look, Harry, none of _us_ have joined the Death Eaters."

Harry raised an eyebrow. "And your parents are dentists, not Death Eaters."

Ron focused on his 'Chuddley Canons' duvet cover stubbornly, and his ears were around the same colour as the orange background. "Look, it just isn't likely that You-Know-Who would get a 16 year old to do his dirty work," Ron muttered, but his tone suggested that he knew defeat was inevitable.

"On the contrary," Harry grinned triumphantly. "_Who_ tried to kill a one year old, and then tried again at 11, 12, 14 and 15?"

Hermione opened her mouth, and then shut it.

Harry pushed on. "Who possessed an 11 year old girl in our second year, used to her petrify people, and then left her to die- sorry mate," Harry said to Ron, who was turning an interesting shade of grey at the mention.

"_And_ who killed an innocent 17 year old?" Harry finished. "I see no evidence that Voldemort is picky over age. If they're breathing, they're ripe for the picking."

Hermione and Ron shrugged and mumbled something along the lines of 'you're probably right, we'll keep an eye on him instead of arguing with you for no reason this entire year, until he lets death eaters into the school and we have to admit we were wrong'.

"Good," Harry said with feeling, "To be honest, you were acting completely out of character. Glad we all hate Malfoy again," and revelled in the peacefulness of having one an argument with logic.

And then Ron said something like 'Hermione only defended Malfoy because she has a crush on him', and the peacefulness promptly evaporated.


	8. School Safety Scrapes

**Yo yo dawg. I have indeed updated once more on a Wednesday. Yayyyyy for schedule. Also: I have an extract thingy of my marauders play at the end. Just a short one :)**

* * *

Set: _Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets, Chapter 11 (The Duelling Club)_

* * *

_"There's something else," said Harry, watching Hermione tearing bundles of knotgrass and throwing them into the potion. "Dobby came to visit me in the middle of the night."_

_Ron and Hermione looked up, amazed. Harry told them everything Dobby had told him- or hadn't told him. Ron and Hermione listened with their mouths open._

_"The Chamber of Secrets has been opened before?" said Hermione._

* * *

"Huh," Ron considered. "Well that fits neatly into the red herring of this plot."

Harry sighed. "Great. Now we can carry on blaming Malfoy. It's funny how we blame him in every instance, except the time he actually is to blame."

"Are you still going on about that? Y'know I thought we covered that in the last chapter-"

"Shut up, Ron." Harry rolled his eyes. "You know I'm right. Or I _will_ be… in four years…"

Hermione gritted her teeth, and pushed aside her potions book.

"It's been opened _before_?" she repeated.

Harry and Ron frowned. "Yes…?" they chorused in confusion.

"Why on earth are we still _here_?" Hermione shrieked.

"Here?"

"Hogwarts! Why on earth are we still in Hogwarts!?"

"Because that's where we go to school?" Harry said slowly, looking at Ron. His ginger friend shrugged helplessly.

Hermione frowned. "I read about a case. It sticks out, because Hogwarts has a surprisingly low number of fatalities for a school that teaches magic to minors. Fifty years ago, a girl was killed. This must be when the Chamber was last opened. It has a history of death! And the teachers must know what it can escalate too!" she panicked. "And poor Colin nearly died! Anyone of us could be next. Even Malfoy said so-"

"Since when is Malfoy right about anything?" Harry questioned, still looking miffed at the idea that Colin Creevey Stalker Supreme could be 'poor'.

"Yeah Hermione," Ron agreed, cheered at the opportunity to insult his nemesis. "Since when does Malfoy know anything?"

"Apparently he knows better than the teachers." Hermione snarled. "I mean, I was doubtful of their ability last year. Putting an item as valuable as the Philosopher's Stone in a school full of eleven years olds was a bad idea, but behind a door that could be opened with a simple alohomora?"

"I got to save the day though," Harry pointed out. "No way could I have done that if safety precautions were taken."

"No, you wouldn't have been able to risk your life," Hermione said sarcastically. "What a shame."

Harry nodded eagerly.

Hermione ignored him. "You know, it wouldn't surprise me if the teachers this year are yet again so _incompetent_ that you have to venture into some kind of dangerous chamber-"

Ron spoke quickly. "C'mon Hermione. Don't spoil the plot twist. And this is _Hogwarts_. What else can Dumbledore do? Where else could we go?"

"Literally anywhere. We're magical. Surely there's some kind of house or building or cave that we could go to. Anywhere's safer than here!"

Harry and Ron shared an amused look. "We couldn't all fit in a cave."

"Magic." Hermione growled.

"Oh."

"And isn't there a department in the Ministry that deals with dangerous animals? If the Chamber has been opened and a beast is loose, isn't this a valuable time for them to get the castle evacuated and searched by _professionals_?"

The two boys shrugged.

"So now that we've established the teachers are idiots, and parents somehow don't catch wind of this and bring us all home- we need to solve this mystery before someone gets killed or disappeared. This really shouldn't be up to twelve year olds, but what can you do? How awful would it be if no one really did anything until a young first year died!?" Hermione narrowed her eyes.

"You've got an active imagination, Mione. Dumbledore wouldn't let that happen." Ron scoffed.

"Hmmm. Okay, so now that we know there was a murder 50 years ago that's probably linked, all we need to do is investigate. I'm sure if we find out the name of the girl, we can move on from there. Records or something."

"Good idea," Harry said, looking pleased. "A nice solid plan." He turned to Ron, and raised his eyebrows. "Can you imagine what would happen if Hermione conveniently got petrified? We'd probably end up following a vague clue like 'follow the spiders', and risk our lives."

"Thank Merlin for Mione," Ron agreed sagely.

The trio sat on the bathroom floor, solemnly contemplating how rubbish adults were. Suddenly, a small, nasally voice sounded from one of the toilet seats. "Excuse me."

Ron, Hermione and Harry span around suddenly, images of a furious Filch discovering them fresh in their minds… only to come face to face with a pigtailed Moaning Myrtle.

"I couldn't help but overhear, that you were talking about the Chamber of Secrets," she giggled. "Would you like to hear how I died?"

Hermione's eyes widened. "Of course! The murdered girl was Myrtle! Quick, where were you murdered?"

"Right here," Myrtle said coyly. "In this bathroom. It was awful, there were these big yellow eyes and a boy-"

"No time." Hermione snapped. "We're going straight to Dumbledore. Now that we have a witness, he _has_ to do something."

She got to her feet and gestured for the others to follow, marching out of the bathroom. Ron and Harry trailed after her, with Myrtle taking up the rear, hiccupping at regular intervals.

"Don't you think it's weird," Harry said. "That we've been discussing all this in the bathroom for a good while now- and Myrtle never said anything?

"Plot convenience," Hermione glowered.

Hermione stormed up a staircase, and the others followed obediently.

"If this was a real school," Hermione grumbled, bushy hair flying out behind her. "We'd be on the train home this evening."

"Yeah," Harry allowed. "But Hogwarts isn't a real school. It's death and danger wrapped up into one castle of doom."

"Mmm," she grunted.

* * *

EXTRACT FROM THE MUSICAL: IN WHICH WE MARAUD (IWW)

**Remus**: I can't believe Professor Slughorn is late to our first Potions class of the year. We're going to fail our NEWTs, I know it.

**Sirius**: Calm down Moony. What does a Potions NEWT actually give you?

**Remus**: Qualifications for literally _every_ job. Didn't you even read those careers leaflets? If only you lot would pick up a book once in a while-

**James**: (_interrupting_) This year's the year.

**Remus**: (_Turning to the other marauders_) Am I mistaken or is he finally taking his studies seriously?

**Sirius**: (_laughing_) Oh, poor, innocent Remi. You're so behind on the times.

**James**: He's not very… awere is he?

**Sirius**: He's a little bit out of it. One could say…he's a little bit 'moony'.

**James**: Maybe he 'wolfed' down his breakfast too fast and has indigestion.

**Peter**: Oh 'deer'. Anymore of these ratty puns and he'll be howling.

**Sirius**: Good one, wormtail! Doe you could do better….

**Peter**: Thanks.

**Remus**: (_fed up_) Have you finished being idiots, yet? You're acting like a bunch of kids.

_(Lily enters with Narcissa and Snape. Sev looks suspiciously at the marauders and Narcissa gazes at James. Lily ignores them)._

**James**: (_Feigning offense_) Why, Moony. You're acting a bit uncivil. Anyone would think you're half savage!

**Sirius**: (_mock concern_) Is it your time of month?

_(Lily overhears and looks up angrily. She marches over.)_

**James**: Admit it. You _are_ acting quite nasty.

**Lily**: What's that Potter?


End file.
